He Will Be Loved
by DaichiSama
Summary: She didnt like how in the middle of intimate love making, the orange head could simply call and Grimmjow would stop what he was doing drop everything and leave.She said it was like living with a ghost. Could he make himself care?No…not really. Des. inside
1. Once Upon a Time

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach. All rights and reserves belong to Tite Kubo.**

**Warnings: Language, Intensely sad scenes (don't worry it get's better later), drug use, slight paranoia.**

**This story is about Grimmjow and Ichigo, they have a very complicated relationship with each other. Read the damn story for the description. :) Loosely based on the song 'She will be loved by Maroon 5', who isn't a bad singer no matter what people think. **

**Beauty queen of only eighteen, she had some trouble with herself**

**He was always there to help her,**

**She always belonged to someone else.**

**I drove for miles and miles and wound up at your door**

**I've had you so many times but somehow i want more.**

**I don't mind spending everyday, out on your corner in the pouring rain.**

**Look for the girl with the broken smile,**

**And ask her if she wants to stay awhile.**

**And she will be loved.**

**Okay! Enough of the sappy lyrics and onto the drama! Sorry its kinda sad, but uh, yeah, i wanted to do a more emotion filled fic than i'm primarily accostomed to. So without further adou (if thats how you spell it), here is the first chapter of He Will Be Loved.**

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><p>He turned on his blinkers, and changed lanes, hearing a soft clunk thunk as he did so. It was raining cats and dogs and fish that night, the sky was an ominous shade of orange. Lightning flashed, suddenly and fiercely, and shortly after the thunder boomed, close by, drowning out all other noises. So he didn't hear the honk of the cars behind him, he didn't notice them changing lanes only to get in front and speed off. It was the highway after all, and fifteen miles per hour is simply unacceptable. But the highway patrol and all other city cops were busy attending to other matters.<p>

Karakura Town, once a very small calm suburbian child, had turned into a crime riddled, angst filled teen in recent years. It wasn't surprising to get one or two murders every other night, especially when weather got like this. It made it so easy to hide all evidence. That was what Grimmjow had been thinking anyways, as he relit a cigarette he'd been smoking when his friend had called. He had been right in the middle of banging his gorgeous wife Harribel when the phone rang, of course the answering machine picked up, and then that normally silky smooth voice had begun talking, saying some nonsense like:

"I don't know what to do or who to call. I…I know its late and your probably sleeping but, when you wake up, please…PLEASE COME RESCUE ME!" And then some sobs had ensued followed by an address. Like always, the bluenette had gotten up, gotten dressed, and left his fuming wife alone in the dark of their bedroom to go out and save his best friend. Well, that's what friends are for anyways right? But Ichigo was really beginning to abuse the right.

Or maybe…he had begun to abuse the right the moment they met, before Grimmjow was married, before the kid was even out of high school. He'd been wet around the ears, shivering, thin little thing, ran away from home for only gods knew what and turned to prostitution. That was how Grimmjow had met him, he'd been patrolling the streets, looking for someone anyone to take away the gnawing hunger in his chest and that was when he found him. He'd been talking, begging this man to take him home with him, pestering him, with an undeniable shake of a crack addict. Grimmjow had been there, done that, a long time ago, and had rehabilitated, thanks to the help of no one but himself. So he picked up the kid, took him home, and tried to help him adjust without the stuff.

He'd learned a lot about him, but he wanted to know more, about why sometimes his bright brown eyes got so dark and he began muttering things in a strange distorted voice. And when things got too bad, Grimmjow just fucked him until he slept. Sometimes that was the only way the boy would fall asleep. And after a short two months living together, Ichigo had disappeared, taking only twenty bucks and a change of clothes. He left no note, he left no sign he'd even been there, making Grimmjow think it was some kind of dream, or joke played on him by vengeful gods. But he'd found him again, in the middle of a crack deal out in the slums, begging for dollars and in exchange, he'd give them anything. And he meant anything.

So here they were, three years later, still good friends, only Grimmjow had grown up, moved on, and Ichigo had stayed on the streets. Occasionally he was picked up by some psycho path, or even a cop once or twice. He was never sent to jail, because Harribel was one of the best lawyers in town, but who knew for how long this would last? Who knew when Ichigo would finally break down, and there'd be a big headline in the newspaper saying 'Local Teen Found Shot in Alleyway, Police Investigate'? And underneath it was a picture of a sad broken figure, lying in his own blood, orange hair matted to his forehead, his eyes sunken in and his gorgeous tanned skin a pale mockery of its former glory. Grimmjow wanted to abandon him so his death would be a little less painful, but there was always a small chance that the boy would come back to him. That they could really work through his problems, get him a psychiatrist, and maybe a job after a while.

Another loud honk broke him out of his haze of memories and he thanked whoever was watching over him (if there was someone at all, it was something he always doubted) that he was just one exit away from where Ichigo was. He was hoping that he wouldn't come home with a big bruise like last time, Harribel would never forgive Ichigo for what he put him through. She didn't like how in the middle of intimate love making, the orange head could simply call and Grimmjow would stop what he was doing, drop everything and leave. She said it was like living with a ghost.

Could he make himself care? No…not really. All that mattered was that he got there in time to save him. It wasn't like he was in love with the boy, he just didn't want to see him hurt any more than he already was. It was like the little injured bird in the park, you have to go help it, mend it, and you won't mind when it flies away from you, because that's why you helped it in the first place. So it could be set free, to fly again with its companions. You just felt a little melancholy when you watched it fly away without a backwards glance, or a thank you. But can you really blame it? No, of course not.

He turned on his blinkers again, and cut across three lanes to make the exit, ignoring the horns around him. It was their fault for being out this late anyways, he was quite positive none of them were out to save their prostitute friend, so why the hell were their boxers in a knot? Grimmjow easily wove his way through the streets, searching for the address he had written hastily on the back of his hand. He found it a moment after he passed it and screeched to a shuddering halt, much to the chagrin of the driver behind him, who let him know his anger by two short honks and a turned up middle finger. Which he would've returned along with a few suggestive lines about what he could do with that middle finger, but he wasn't paying attention.

He was out of his car in a flash, rain quickly soaking through his light jacket and thin undershirt he'd thrown on, and pressing his spiky blue hair down to his head. He saw a huddled up figure, crying next to a telephone booth, wearing only a sheet and a pair of white socks. He would've passed right by if he hadn't noticed the shock of orange among the brown and grey. Luckily, he could spot him from a mile away, blindfolded and walking backwards. Without hesitation, he scooped up the light figure and gently laid him in the passenger side, not once making any complaints about his seat being soaked through. Though he would have yelled at Harribel if she'd so much as gotten mud on the floors of the expensive vehical. This car was his baby, he'd bought for himself, by himself, and he loved it like a well-tuned child, of which Grimmjow and Harribel had none, because he didn't want kids. He found them to be too whiny and loud.

Ichigo didn't even acknowledge being picked up, but once he was in the car, he fell promptly asleep, and Grimmjow smiled serenely at him, feeling warmth bubble up inside. He didn't look especially hurt, and besides a slight tremor in his limbs, he didn't see any sign of drug use. In fact, he didn't see anything wrong and he wondered why he'd been called. Maybe he'd just decided to run away again, before things got too personal, before he got better. He pulled back out of the parking space in time to see a big burly man with rippling muscles and long spiked up hair run down the stairs and glare right into the car.

He was yelling something, his eyes getting more wild and desperate as the car got further and further away. The man was shirtless but he still decided running after the car in the pouring rain was a good idea, and Grimmjow was sure he would have kept running after them had they not gotten onto the freeway. The bluenette shook his head sadly, yep, he'd been there, so desperate to get Ichigo back that he would walk or run for miles and miles, just to keep him in sight. But the harder you ran after him, the farther he got away, much like that metaphorical bird. Ichigo chose you, not the other way around. No exceptions, no take backs.

He dialed a number on his phone and jumped when it began ringing directly in his ear, forgetting that he had a Bluetooth in. After the third ring, it picked up, to a very sleepy voice. And amazingly enough, his voice sounded like that all the time, not because it was now three o clock in the morning.

"This is the Starrk residence." The voice said, followed by a long obnoxious yawn.

Grimmjow sighed, he hated asking for favors like this, but Harribel would not have Ichigo in the house, she said she didn't trust crack heads. He had to tell himself over and over that she was his wife- a woman- and he wouldn't lay a hand on her. But if she got one more hair on that chin he was taking her ass down.

"Yo, this is Grimmjow, I got a favor to ask." There was a disgusted sigh, the other man not bothering to cover up his distaste.

"At three in the morning? I can only imagine what that favor is like." And then after a long pause, "If there's bail concerned, forget it, I'm in my boxers and I ain't changing 'cuz your ass got pulled over for driving too slow."

Grimmjow shook his head, narrowly missing another car as he turned left at a red light. His eyes were drooping, and he needed to drop Ichi off and get back home before Harribel started suspecting anything. After a short while, he pulled up to Starrks house, one of the nicer ones in the neighborhood. "It's Ichi again." Was all he said, walking around to the passenger's side, the cold seeping into his very skin, waking him up again. When it got too rainy all he wanted to do was go take a nap and wait it out. He was like a cat in that way. The door opened, and Starrk stood there, leaning on the doorframe. The bluenette had known he would say yes, he just wanted to give a little heads up beforehand.

He hefted Ichigo into his arms, noticing vaguely that he was way too light, but he was too tired to be very concerned about that. And plus, Szayel could come over the next day and check on Ichi, and he would, because he loved Ichi just as much as the others. Everyone cared about him, but he didn't seem to reciprocate any of their feelings. It was like trying to flirt with a brick wall. And that wasn't Ichigo's fault, per say, because he'd been broken beyond repair a long time ago. The memory was still fresh in Ichigo's mind though, fresh enough that he woke up screaming on bad nights, usually whimpering in the others. He'd given up trying to keep him around, because someone that broken, could never be the same again, could never be whole again.

Like a glass vase. Once it shattered, into a million tiny pieces, there were very few that would take the time to collect all the pieces and put it together again, knowing that they'd get cut, and knowing there'd still be a spider web of cracks along its outside. All Ichigo needed was that one person who would do that for him, who'd stain that glass rose colored and make it a work of art. A masterpiece, like he was meant to be.

He reluctantly handed him over to Starrk who grumbled something about wet dogs and shut the door in his face, leaving him out standing in the cold, wanting to imprint the last few moment's they'd had, to remember how it felt when their heartbeats were synchronized. But he turned, and pulled up his hood, though now it was just as soaked through as the rest of him, and he trudged back to his car, now his limbs felt heavy as he dragged himself home, to where Harribel would be angrily awaiting his return. There'd be some shouting, some death threats, but after Grimmjow stood staring through her like she didn't even exist, she'd give up and smack him upside the head before heading off to bed, throwing some blankets and a pillow on the couch.

He nodded, it sounded like a good plan to him. He revved his engine and drove off, screeching around corners, the fast pace keeping him awake and alert, at least until he got home. The adrenaline would run out and he'd be so out of it, one could confuse him for a zombie.

Because that was how it always went, when Ichigo came back to him.

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><p>Brown eyes opened to a well decorated living room. He felt warm, warmer than he'd felt in a long time, and he sat up slowly, wincing at the throbbing headache that was building with each moment. Ichigo had been lying on a long red couch, covered by what could only be ten blankets and a few sheets. He was wearing some huge boxers with little howling wolves on it, but other than that, he seemed to be in working order.<p>

He didn't remember how he'd gotten here, but he did remember calling Grimmjow, and he assumed that his savior had come and picked him up, saving him from Kenpachi, his newest client. The man had been getting too clingy, too lovey dovey and as Ichigo pulled away, the man held tighter suffocating him to the point where he really felt like he couldn't breathe. So he'd done what he does best, he ran.

He heard a small noise off to the side, and he looked in that direction, his eyes landing on Coyote Starrk, who had fallen asleep before he'd even made it to a chair, or his bedroom for that matter. Ichigo threw off his covers, hating the tremor in his limbs as he stood and walked over to Starrk, trying but failing to at least pull him onto the living room chair. So instead he covered him with a few blankets and made his way into the kitchen.

The man's daughter Lilynette, sat at the island in the kitchen, reading a newspaper, with her legs crossed at the ankles. Her sea foam green hair was pulled back in a tiny pigtail, and her pink eyes flickered to Ichigo and then back at the comics she was reading, obviously not too surprised to see him there. As usual, she was wearing a very revealing outfit which consisted of: pink panties and a bright orange shirt with a picture of a kitten yawning that said 'Not a Morning Person'. He opened all the cabinets and found what he was looking for, pancake mix. Lilynette and Coyote both loved pancakes to the extent of it almost being an addiction. It was probably much more healthy than his. He knew he had to eat too, because he didn't remember the last time he had, the thought had just slipped his mind.

Until he saw his host lying face down on the floor, drooling all over his expensive imported carpet, he hadn't thought of health at all. In fact, he couldn't remember the last time he showered, or brushed his teeth, or even comb the rats nest that was his hair. In fact, he hadn't cut his hair in so long, it trailed down his back in knots and tangles that would be almost fun trying to figure out. The top was still cropped short though, probably someone's attempt at making it at least _look_ fashionable.

Lilynette set her newspaper down as soon as she smelled the pancakes, and she drifted over hesitantly, peeking over his shoulder at the light gold fluffy disks. Starrk even woke up to come and sit at the island, crossing his arms on the surface and lying his head down on top of them. He piled up the pancakes, and watched them disappear one by one or two by two in Lilynette's case. He even ate half of one himself, leaving the rest to them.

Then he took his leave to go and take a shower, though, it wasn't much of a shower. He kinda just washed his hair and stood under the hot water until he had built up the courage to step back out and look at himself in the mirror. And when he did, he gasped, dropping the towel to the floor. He stared at the pale person in front of him, white hair cut short and slightly spiky, and the rest down. The man looked exactly like him, but totally wrong and different. Gold on black eyes stared back at him, with a very pitying look, the lower half of the man's face was covered by a black mask. He would've thought the image was cool, if it weren't for the fact that the image moved when he didn't, and walked up to the very edge of the mirror, and rested his hand on the glass.

"King…look at ya. You're all skin and bones. What happened to all that muscle huh? Why have you been shutting me out? I just wanna help you…let me help you. I'm not gonna let you kill us, Ichi. I won't, I'll take over if this gets much worse." Ichigo then watched as those fingers broke through the glass of the mirror, the cold surface rippling like water as he stepped through, directly in front of him. The pity died in those strange inverted eyes as he stepped so close to Ichigo he could feel the cold radiating out of him like a refrigerator. "And cut your fuckin hair, your starting to look like Zangetsu." And then, just like that, he was gone, and Ichigo felt weak, like the energy had been drained from his body. He gripped the edge of the sink, but he still slid to the floor, the cold tiles against his bare skin felt good.

He remembered when Zangetsu and Shirosaki had first appeared to him, he was only fifteen years old, and they'd told him to leave home before things got much worse. And they'd guided him to a halfway home, but he'd left, and shut them out of his head with the only thing he knew that worked. And that was drugs, lots and lots of drugs, whether he had to smoke it, inject it, inhale it, or take it like a pill, he constantly had something running through his system. But he couldn't keep that up for very long.

He needed cash, and no one was willing to hire some gangly orange haired druggie, excusing the fact that he was at this time seventeen and didn't have a high school degree. So he did something he'd been doing since he was thirteen, he'd started having sex for money. And that had worked out really well, until the blue haired man had come by.

He'd fed him well, and kept him warm and safe, but he wouldn't let him have any drugs, and the two came back with a vengeance. He found himself battling off visions of them every waking moment of everyday. And though he really liked being with the man, he simply couldn't stay there any longer. So he'd left and now, three years later, he was still seeing the two apparitions, and now they were feeling bad for him. And if that wasn't enough, he felt that headache take over and his body burn up, and some cuts he didn't even know he'd had started hurting as they reopened, leaving a bloody mess on Starrks bathroom floor. The floor seemed to come up to meet him as his vision went black, and he fell into a dream about Zangetsu and Shirosaki having a little tea party on the side of a tall skyscraper. Or what was once a tall skyscraper the tops were disintegrating, and the accumulated rain water swallowed up the lower half of the building.

He smiled as he walked up to them, and they sat and chatted with him, pretending like they didn't see what was before them. If things continued in this way, they knew that Ichigo would die, or go insane, and their world would be lost forever, as well as their 'King'.

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><p>Grimmjow had dropped off Harribel at the courthouse, and she'd yelled at him about the seat being wet and getting her expensive suit stained. He'd argued back that you can't stain anything with water and she'd stormed out, knowing that she was wrong, and that she'd lost the argument. The rain had continued, and now the news was telling them there'd be a monsoon, though it was unusual for this time of year, that they should expect the worse, and have a flood kit prepared. With that in mind, he'd headed over to Starrks house, ignoring the calls from Ulquiorra that he knew would be to tell him he was late and should be at work. And he was probably getting aggravated about Szayel, Coyote, Neliel, Grimmjow, and Nnoitora not showing up for work. But they were all going to be watching over Ichigo for as long as he hung around.<p>

People were just attracted to him like moths to a flame, like bees to honey. He was sure that if his old friends were to hear about his reappearance they'd be over in a flash. But with the way things were, Ichigo always said he didn't want them to see him. Not how he was, and he refused to get better, so he would never see them again. By now, his old friends and his family had probably given up on him, if they could, the boy was just too addicting. He was all the fix that Grimmjow needed, but now he was starting to sound like a psychopath.

"Get it together, Grimmjow." He growled, making a sharp left and screeching to a halt at the end of the block. As expected, everyone was there, the long string of cars on the street spoke of the mayhem going on inside. And soon he'd be adding to it, and after a few hours, Harribel would be too, very reluctantly. She hated Ichigo and tried to convince the others to let go of him before it was too late. Of course, none of them listened to her, and that only made the busty blonde even more unhappy. Today, he'd been expecting the rain, and he was wearing a thin but warm leather jacket, mercifully with a dry, fur lined hood.

He pulled it up, and fairly ran to the door, pushing it open when he realized it was slightly ajar. The bluenette closed the door after him, locking it with a decided click and stared slightly shocked at the quiet group gathered in the living room.

Starrk was awake and alert for once, breathing down Szayel's neck as he examined Ichigo with a very sad expression in his amber eyes. Neliel had her head bowed, her bright green trusses falling in her face as she tried to stifle the growing sobs. Nnoitora threw his dislike for her to the wind and had her hugged close to his chest, grimacing at no one in particular. Even little Lilynette was in the living room, sitting in the middle of the carpeted floor, hugging her knees close to her chest. Grimmjow wondered momentarily what the fuck was going on, but he didn't say anything, instead he grabbed Coyote's shoulder and pulled him back, so he could get a closer look at Ichigo.

Now he saw that his bright orange hair was a lot longer, and his normally gorgeous polished skin was a pale dusty color. His muscles, normally just barely rippling below the surface of his skin seemed nonexistent. And he just saw the multitude of cuts all along his arms, and the burn marks on the lower part of his stomach, stretching around to his back. There was a new clean bandage wrapped around his left arm, and a new chain like tattoo wrapping up his right arm. Szayel checked his pulse one last time before sitting down with a sigh next to Neliel and Nnoitora.

Grimmjow moved a strand of orange hair out of his face, and he gingerly took the small cold hand in his own, kissing it tenderly. If he hadn't seen the slight rise and fall of his chest, he would think Ichigo was dead. Right now, he could count his rib bones, so thin was he. How had he not noticed this the day before? He swallowed down the lump in his throat. Somehow, he'd thought they'd have a bit more time with him, through all of the warnings his wife had given him, he still felt some kind of black hole opening up in the pit of his stomach. Looking in the sad eyes off all those gathered there told him that they were feeling it too. There was an empty spot in each of them now, a spot that Ichigo had always taken up, filled. They felt hollow, and empty, like strange tired versions of their former selves. Ichigo made them have some emotion, made them feel human, unlike Harribel and Ulquiorra, who didn't hang out with him much.

He brought them back down to earth, made them smile, made them laugh, made them angry enough to smash things, and times like this, made them want to cry a river and drown the whole world. Grimmjow sat back on his heels, trying to cover up the shaking of his own limbs. Some part of him couldn't stand Ichigo going so soon.

What the hell was he going to do without him?

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><p><strong>Woah! This is the longest chapter i've ever done for any story! A whopping 5,000 words for one chapt? You gotta be fuckin kidding me, i shoulda spaced that out more.<strong>

**They felt 'hollow' without him. -elbows you in the ribs- get it? Hollow! Cuz their arrancar! Ahaha, leave it to old sadistic me to find something funny in all that misery. Anyways, drop me a review if you liked it, cuz i may just leave it at this. I'm just delaying updating Naughty Strawberry Maid and Your Eyes Your Voice, and inevitably the second chapter of Owe You My Life, cuz some of my readers want it to be continued. **

**If you want more, tell me so, cuz i can and will leave it at this. Trust me, i've abandoned more stories than a publishing company! Oh yeah, and if my proverbs and weird rants seem kinda off, it's because their often transalted from Japanese, and we have sayings like 'Knowledge without wisdom is a load of books on the back of an ass.' Doesn't make much sense in English does it? No? Didn't think so. **


	2. No One but Every One

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach. All rights and reserves belong to Tite Kubo.**

**Warnings: Drug Use, Slight Paranoia, Immesurably Sad Scenes, and Blood.**

**Okay, here it is. I find myself oddly addicted to this story, in all the right ways. It's easy as hell to write, and hopefully to read ^~^ unfortunatly, i'm...well a glutton for punishment when it comes to all this misery. Ichi is such a tortured soul, and if he wasn't eighteen, definatly jail bait XD**

**Thanks for the reviews guys ^_^ i didn't think this story would be very well recieved, what with the hell i'm gonna put Ichigo and Grimmjow through. But maybe you like Hurt/Comfort/Angst stories like this? **

**Anywho, you know me, i tend to ramble in the Authors Note, so, without further adou (if that is indeed how you spell it), here is the second chapter, hopefully of many of He Will Be Loved. **

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><p>Harribel had arrived to the house a few hours later, trying to prolong going to Starrks house, which she knew was going to wreak havoc on her already fried nerves. It didn't help that the rain was sloshing over the cab's windshield like someone was pouring bucket after bucket over the car. The cab driver was an elderly Japanese man, who made very tight turns, tight enough for her to go sliding to the other side of the seat. And she didn't like to slide, it was probably the most undignified thing to be doing. They stopped in the middle of the street, thankfully, no one wanted to be out in the rain, so the street was fairly deserted. She opened the car door, and a blast of wind and rain water hit her before she could so much as open her umbrella. But when she did, he handed the man twenty dollars and stepped out, her six inch stilettos making a very comforting click on the pavement as she made her way to Starrks house, briefcase under her arm.<p>

She gingerly stepped over the enormous puddle in the driveway. It looked deep enough to swallow up her heel and get her feet soaking wet, something that she wasn't very eager for. After having defeated that obstacle, she was faced with what looked like a deserted house. There were no lights on, no windows open, no shouts and yelling from its occupants. Grimmjow wasn't yelling at them to quiet down, and little Lilynette wasn't guiding Ichigo around the room, trying to get 'his land legs back' as she put it. But that really meant, trying to see if he could walk a straight line, and if he was drugged up. They could no longer tell the difference, his body was so used to it; it was almost like he didn't get the high anymore, which made her wonder why he still took it. But she shook that thought out of her mind.

Once a crack head, always a crack head. There was no changing who Ichigo was, and she'd figured that out a long time ago, when Grimmjow had come back with a big bruise on his gorgeous face, trying to get the boy back from some abusive man who was trying to get him to 'work full time' if you know what she meant. That boy had cost him and his friends more trouble and heartbreak than should be allowed. She cared about them, she'd grown up with most of them, and she was very much in love with her husband. So why couldn't they see she had their best interests in mind? All she was trying to do was protect them, was all, they were very precious people to her and it made her heart break every time they felt pain, or hurt. And they felt that every time Ichigo ran away.

And now the boy was back again, and they should've been partying, like they wouldn't have done for her, had she reappeared after two full months. But they weren't, she didn't even know if they were there or not. Maybe they'd seen her coming and snuck out the back way or something, she wouldn't put it past them. They hated her for the things she'd said, and done to protect them. They never even thanked her for when she saved their precious little boy from going to jail, where he'd surely be raped or killed. She'd saved his life, and how did he repay her? By throwing it away the next time he picked up a syringe. And she'd had it. She'd come over here with an argument in mind, and she knew how it would go exactly, but now she wasn't so sure of herself, a position she wasn't in very often.

She walked up the short flight of stone steps, instead of the water logged stepping stones up the lawn, and she knocked on the door, very softly and tentatively. Something about that house seemed daunting, it reeked of death and indifference, and it didn't seem to want to yield to her. Harribel knocked once more, waiting with bated breath, until it swung open, revealing her longtime friend Szayel. The man's normally vibrant amber eyes stared down at her tiredly, she frowned, she'd seem him yesterday and he looked fine but now after only twenty four hours, he seemed to have aged a good five years.

"Harribel…" He said, his voice sounded raspy, like he'd been crying or shouting. Normally his voice was beautiful, like the tinkling of bells. "I don't think anyone is in the mood to get yelled at." He said, nodding once before starting to slide the door shut, right in her face. She stuck her foot in the doorway, trying to fight down her anger. No one felt like seeing her? Had that druggie already taken her place in everyone's hearts? That was why she couldn't stand him, every time she saw him she got immeasurably angry, and she'd ended up saying some very hurtful things, not helping herself along much. He sighed harshly, and flung open the door like he'd given up, turning on his heel and walking back inside.

She scowled, that was a very unexpected reaction. Still, she slipped off her shoes in the genkan and hung up her trench coat, and closed her umbrella, setting it by the doorway. It was cold in here, like the heat wasn't working. Her breath ghosted out in front of her like she was smoking. When they were younger they'd done that all morning, pretending they were grownups, smoking cigarettes. How naïve they had been. When she walked into the living room, she was immediately choked up by the sight before her.

Neliel was crying, her whole body shaking with each heart wrenching sob. Nnoitora was talking to her in a very quiet, soothing voice, but he didn't look any more hopeful than she did. Szayel was sitting on the very edge of the long couch, looking down on the figure almost swallowed up by blankets. She couldn't see his face because her husband, Grimmjow, was kneeling in front of him, his head bowed, holding his hand in his own, murmuring something over and over. She couldn't hear what he was saying until she got closer.

"Please don't leave me, please don't leave me all alone, Ichi." He said, his voice cracking at the end. She frowned, he should know he would never be alone. He had so many other friends he could count on, and a wife, who was devoted solely to him, why then…did he seem so broken? He repeated it again, pressed his lips to Ichigo's hand. And in the midst of all her wondering, all her hard denial, something finally clicked into place. But she had a hard time swallowing that down.

Lilynette waved her over, she was sitting on Starrks lap, cradled in his arms like she was still a toddler. Starrk for once was awake, though he did seem tired beyond measure. Harribel couldn't even feel angry anymore. Ichigo was gone…wasn't he? Why else would everyone be in such low spirits? They'd grieve, they'd move on, and love her again…wouldn't they? The small green haired girl looked at her with tear filled pink eyes.

"Harribel, I was wondering if you could do me a favor." The girl said, getting out of her father's lap and beckoning to her to follow after, into another room of the house. They stood in the kitchen, that smelled of pancakes, though the smell wasn't fresh anymore, and the pancakes on the counter were only half eaten, like they'd stopped in the middle of devouring them. That was almost beyond belief, she knew how much they loved them, and to abandon them, mid bite it looked like, seemed impossible. Lilynette turned to face her, her tears finally spilling down her peach colored cheeks.

While crying, the girl's voice remained even, like she was denying the tears that now coursed down her face. She outlined what she had in mind, the plan itself seemed underhanded, though it was rightfully placed. But when the girl finished with, "I'm sure he'd want to see them." Harribel felt something like anger stirring in the pit of her stomach.

"He's still alive?" She ground out, glaring at the girl, with thoughts of Ichigo in mind. He was sick, any fool could see that, he was on the brink of death, and causing them so much pain, but he still clung on. Why? So he could prolong their suffering? She simply nodded and turned on her heel, walking out of the house to make a few phone calls.

It was going to be a very long day.

* * *

><p>Ichigo was sitting with Shirosaki and Zangetsu, after they'd moved their tea table up a bit more, out of the way of the slowly rising water. They were smiling at him, and talking, and he found them to be very interesting people. He'd had them pegged wrong, all this time. Zangetsu was quiet, and reserved, but he liked Ichigo, told him he was going to get better. Shirosaki was a little bit off, but he was nice enough, in fact he seemed to be devoted to Ichigo, something he didn't mind so much. Eventually though, Ichigo felt something, go over him like a wisp of smoke. It was so sudden and so quick that he almost thought he imagined it. However, his current companions did notice it, and they looked at each other in unison.<p>

Zangetsu poured Ichigo another hot cup of White Island Peach Tea, which just so happened to be one of his favorites. "Ichigo, you'll be leaving us pretty soon. There's someone out there that really cares about you. He wants you to return to him now." Ichigo shook his head, feeling a bit of panic settle in his stomach. He didn't want to go back. Not yet. He felt normal, safe and warm in here. Out there, there were scary things, things that would hurt him, people that would hurt him.

"I'm not going back." He claimed, watching the two of them. His light brown eyes shifted between them, hoping to find some sort of ascent. He saw it first on Shirosaki's face. A slight glimmer of pity and then a yearning look. He pressed on, "Please let me stay here a bit longer, I promise, I will go back but I want to stay with you longer." He bit his lip, waiting for them to give him their verdict. He liked this world; it seemed alright to him, despite the rising water and evaporating buildings. In fact, the one they sat on now was one of maybe a dozen or so. He wondered why that was, and what came after all the buildings were gone. Maybe it'd rebuild itself from the ground up, only better this time.

Shirosaki turned to him, a very small, very sad smile on his face. "You can stay longer Ichi. It won't do you any harm." The albino took his hands in his own, the chill biting through his perception of reality. He felt the edges of his peripherals come into clearer focus. Ichigo nodded, and took one hand out of his grasp to take a sip of his tea. Its floral scent alone could soothe him, but the taste was better than he thought taste could be.

"I have a question." Ichigo said, after setting his cup down and sliding his hand over to Zangetsu, who took it after a moment's hesitation. "I want to know why the city is being destroyed, and what happens when it's gone." At that, Shirosaki's calm broke and he let out a loud sob, snatching his hand back and turning his head away from Ichigo. Zangetsu simply stared at him, for a long while. So long, he didn't know if he would answer.

But when he did, it went something like this, "Ichigo, this world is your consciousness, you created it for us to live in, and for you to go when you're weak. When you need help." After that, Ichigo stopped listening, he was too busy looking at the clear water that was slowly gaining. When he was younger, he had hated the rain, but he'd always, always loved water. Water so deep and clear and blue, he loved it, he always wanted to just go swim in it, or stand in it. And eventually that turned to love for the rain. "Ichigo, if you trust in me, I will never let rain fall in this world. You're not going through this alone, so stop using drug to keep us away Ichigo, let us help you." He turned and looked into Zangetsu's dark eyes. He found a spark of hope in those eyes, that seemed to be stamped out when Ichigo stood.

"I want the rain. And I do trust you Zangetsu, but I don't trust your judgment." He said, and he heard a boom of thunder off to the left, where the sky was in this twisted world. And then…it began to rain again, the icy droplets hitting the side of his face and running across horizontally. He stood for a moment and smiled, liking the strange feeling. And then he took off his shirt, and pants, and dived into the water.

It didn't feel like water, it felt like…blankets incasing him and holding him in, trying to suffocate him. He felt hands on his nose and mouth, shutting off his air supply.

And then very suddenly, it was all real. Hands were enclosed over his nose and mouth, though over hands were trying to pull them away. He looked around wildly, trying to find something, someone to latch onto, to make some sense of this vision. Finally he found a shock of blue, and he felt anger. Grimmjow was trying to kill him. Trying to suffocate him. Why? What had e ever done to him? He was just like the rest of them. Just like

And suddenly, those hands were off of him, and he gulped in breaths of air, glaring angrily at Grimmjow, who seemed scared beyond belief. He reached out, feeling a twinge of pain in his arm, but ignoring it. Ichigo grabbed a handful of that wild blue hair and pulled with all of his strength, which apparently wasn't very much anymore. The man didn't even wince, he just stared at him, a confused and scared look in those eyes.

"You tried to kill me." Ichigo growled, wincing at the sudden sharp pain in this throat. Grimmjow shook his head fiercely, grabbing his hands in his own. They were warm and calloused, just like he remembered. "No…you tried to kill me." He croaked, pulling his hands out of Grimmjow's.

Other details swam into focus too suddenly, and he found himself slamming onto his back, like he'd been dropped into bed. The bluenette beckoned someone over…pink assaulted his vision and he felt something press against the crook of his elbow.

"Ichigo…you were suffocating yourself," Grimmjow said, his clear blue eyes trying to convince him of something strange and impossible. A bright light flashed in his eyes, and he looked towards the flash of pink, and met warm amber eyes. They flickered to Grimmjow, and a look was passed between the two, like a silent conversation.

Szayel looked back down at him, kneeling onto eye level. He then realized he was back on the couch, under a mountain of covers. "Ichigo, it's true you did try to suffocate yourself. You still have something running through your veins right now, your high, Ichigo." He shook his head, he didn't feel high, he felt betrayed, and angry. "Yes, you are. Look, you're hurting yourself right now."

Ichigo looked down at himself, and found his hands balled into fists so tight the knuckles were white, and his fingers nails dug into the skin, drawing a line of deep red blood around the tips. When he unclenched his hands, he felt the pain he should've felt when he'd first punctured the skin. He looked at his hands, the blood stayed just on the surface, refusing to actually leave the sight. And like a child he felt the urge to squeeze it until the blood came dripping out. Instead, he examined his nails.

They were long and ragged, having not been cared for in a very long time. He shook his head, trying to get a hold on himself. The drugs weren't supposed to hurt him, they were supposed to help him. He latched onto the idea that Zangetsu and Shirosaki were taking over his body, and purposely hurting him so that he'd stop the drugs and they could take over his mind again. It made perfect sense, and the more the thought about it, the more solid it became. His only option was to get out of here, and find something stronger to take, something that would shut them out completely.

He looked immediately at Grimmjow, and searched his friends eyes. He didn't seem to be getting much sleep, there were deep bags under his gorgeous clear blue eyes that seemed to pierce through him and wedge itself deep into his heart. Like a poisonous nettle. And as much as he wanted to look away, and avoid that barb, he couldn't. He forced himself to keep looking, he knew that Grimmjow was his only way out of here. He often left Ichigo unguarded, unlike Szayel, who didn't seem to trust him at all. The pink haired man would often set up watch shifts, to make sure he didn't escape, and the only way he did those times, was to win Grimmjow over. The man would let him go as soon as he asked, thankfully. And he would always be his very best friend, the only one who he might tell about Zangetsu and Shirosaki. Maybe he would understand then, why he needed the drugs and let him have them, and let him have Grimmjow as well.

He reached out, with his still bloody hand and touched the older man's cheek gently, watching his eyelids flutter shut at the simple touch. Truthfully, Ichigo had missed him just as much as the bluenette seemed to have missed him, and he wanted to reveal in their reunion, but he found his time there already taxing on his mind. He could feel himself slipping, and he needed out…now. The blankets on him were suddenly twisting him, coiling around him like snakes, leaving him gasping.

But that was all in his mind, he told himself, sitting up straighter. "Grimmjow," Ichigo murmured, bringing his face close to his friends. He knew he wasn't playing fair, but what choice did he have? "I want to go." He said softly, and flinched away when those cerulean eyes opened, showing very raw, and very harsh emotions. The orange haired teen, raised a hand to his throat, he hadn't ever seen so many emotions in one person. Surely something like that would tear one apart?

"You can't go this time Ichigo." He said, his voice uneven, and croaking on his name. "I'm sorry, we can't let you go this time." Grimmjow said again, until the words sank in. He couldn't go? They were keeping him here hostage? Panic edged into him and he felt a scream rising to his throat. But before it could escape, someone knocked softly on the door. He looked up, and around, finally noticing all of the other faces assembled around him. Nnoitora, Neliel, Lilynette, Starrk, and even Harribel were all seated around in the living room. Some giving him warm smiles, others were on the verge of sleep, their eyes only half open. Harribel got up and went to go answer the door, all the while; her eyes were on Ichigo, spitting venom.

Ichigo swallowed thickly, trying to figure out what he could do. Obviously he couldn't get past all of these people, not unless Grimmjow was going to help him, and it didn't seem like he was. He felt his breathing become shallower; his eyes followed Harribel back to her spot on the loveseat by Nnoitora and Neliel. Another figure walked in after her, standing stiffly, his suit well tapered to his body, his hands were thrust deeply into his pockets. He looked at Ichigo with a very unfriendly appraising emerald gaze.

"Oh, you are alive, fantastic." The man said, getting as close to sarcasm as he got. He flicked his short black hair back over his shoulder and went to stand against the wall by the hallway leading to the kitchen. Ichigo rolled his eyes, earning a snicker from Grimmjow and a full on laugh from Nnoitora, who was one of the ones smiling at him. Though the tall stick like mans smile wasn't exactly welcomed.

Then came in someone Ichigo thought he would never see again, Orihime Inoue, his best friend in high school, at least, until he'd run away. He'd vowed to never let her see him like this. Sometime in the far away past, he thought she'd be disgusted. Now he didn't see a reason for her to be, and the warm look and tears in her eyes told him he had been right. She ran to him, and hugged his head close to her bosom; she blushed and then pulled away, asking if he was alright.

"Course I am, Inoue, you know me." He said, jokingly. The tears in her eyes spilled over and she kissed his forehead sweetly, before getting pulled away by a short angry black haired woman. "Rukia…" He said suddenly very tired, this woman had a way with ruining his good mood. She always had, and she probably always would.

Rukia punched him on the arm that wasn't hurt, her eyes lingering on the new chain tattoo he had gotten. He rubbed the newly sore spot, glaring at her. "What the hell? How could you just drop off the face of the earth for three years? Why didn't you tell anyone anything?" She dropped to her knees in front of him, and he saw her eyes swimming with unshed tears as well. Her eyes made a connection with his, and memories of her came flooding into his mind. "I would've come with you…" She said, choking on a sob. "I would've gone anywhere, done anything for you, don't you know that?" He felt a lump form in his throat. He hadn't known the gnome like girl had cared for him that much, if he had, he might've told her everything. He might've told her about his uncle Aizen, about the appearance of Zangetsu and Shirosaki, about his plans to run away, under their guidance. He might've stayed, or he might've actually gone to the police about 'the incident' like she would've told him to. She would've helped him find a way, her and Orihime; they had been the most important people in his life, besides his family.

He heard someone clear their throat and he looked up and saw Uryu and Chad standing in the living room, and suddenly the space really seemed too small. The raven haired teen stared at the ground with a slight pout to his lips, and Chad, well…Chad may have been looking directly at him, but he couldn't see his eyes at all. His hair had grown a lot, and he hadn't bothered to cut it, much like Ichigo. The coin that had brought the two together, all those years ago, hung on his neck, now the coin was pierced through with a small hole. Behind that was a carved four pronged symbol, something that Ichigo had doodled on his notebooks and binders a lot back then. He almost felt himself choke up at this but now that they were here, he had a plan forming, and he wouldn't let it go.

"Rukia." He said, looking at the raven haired girl. She looked at him, her tears wiped away and never to be mentioned again. When he opened his mouth to ask for the favor, Grimmjow shook his head, thus cutting off his plea.

"Not gonna happen Ichigo. You can't go back to that, I'm sorry." Ichigo scowled, he couldn't do anything could he? The thought of being trapped like a rat, in this house made him cower in pure unadulterated fear. It wasn't just Zangetsu and Shirosaki, he thought in a moment of sobriety, it was those memories, of 'the incident' that had happened…or begun so very long ago.

The rain pouring outside of the house made him remember with a cold certainty, the events of that day. The day, that he had first met his uncle Sosuke Aizen.

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><p><strong>A few things i need to address right here right now, no spoilers, i promise. Zangetsu and Shirosaki began as a coping mechanism for him, and they sort of grew from there. As you know from Inception (if you've seen it, if not i'll explain), your mind tends to create and build even when your not awake of it yourself, they became like seperate entities in his mindscape, or inner world. Ah, and while i'm on Zan and Shiro, i would like to say, that while they haven't given up on Ichigo, they have begun to lose hope. <strong>

**Another thing, Ichigo doesn't like the rain period. The only reason he thinks that while in his mindscape is because he's well...high off his ass. He does like water though, which we will get to see in the next chapter, after a short flashback of course. It'll be coming soon, since i can't seem to get any other work done but this story. Anyways! Arigato my lovely readers, and see you next time. **


	3. Reasons Why

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach. All rights and reserves belong to Tite Kubo.**

**Warnings: Language, Scary Flashbacks, Blood, Rape, Mindfucks (y'know, the whole nine yards)**

**I want to say enjoy the chapter, but you probably wont. Old uncle Sosuke is one sick S.O.B ;)**

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><p>Ichigo was lying on the couch watching television with his two younger sisters, Karin and Yuzu. It was a Saturday, and normally they all had things to do, like say, go play soccer or hang out with friends. Unfortunately, the near constant flow of rain stopped them from so much as venturing outside. So here they were, Karin and Ichigo were pretending to be interested in some lame Don Kanonji rerun.<p>

Eventually Ichigo gave up on it and just laid on his back watching the bright flashes of light from the television on the ceiling. He could almost guess what was happening just from that. The screen went red, that probably meant that Don had stumbled upon a ghost or monster or something. It was so predictable he could almost quote it. The orange head glanced over at his sisters, and made sure they were okay before he shut his eyes and tried to relax. He hated the rain, with a passion, especially on days like this, when you couldn't see the sky and inside it might as well have been night. And if it got too bad, the lights would turn out and you'd be all alone with whatever resides in the darkness. Not that he believed in monsters anymore, he was fifteen after all. Now he was the one chasing imaginary monsters from out of Karin and Yuzu's closet. He'd grab the bat their dad kept by his bed and creep up to the door, slowly, the floor boards creaking under his feet.

And even though he was sure that there'd be no monster inside, he felt chills rise on his skin, and he pulled open the door slowly….

He heard a loud boom, like a gunshot resonating through the house, and his eyes snapped open, automatically going to his sisters. They were huddled up by the couch, just rubbing the sleep out of their eyes. Ichigo scowled, blaming the noise on thunder. Damn, he hated thunderstorms, he'd been hoping that it was just a day of rain, but apparently not. Yuzu climbed onto the couch and into his lap, shaking slightly. He sat up, and held her, patting the cushion next to him for Karin to sit on. He knew she was scared too, probably more than Yuzu, but she would never show it. She was the strongest pillar of their family after their mother was killed. Or…when they had assumed she was dead.

He'd been out with her that day, raining, just like this one. They'd just gone out to the supermarket to get a few things when a man stepped out of an alley, and brandished a knife.

That was the last thing he remembered, before waking up in a hospital bed in his fathers clinic. He was told his mother was assumed dead, her body was gone but her blood soaked the alleyway, and there wasn't need for much more evidence. The killer was being tracked down, but so far no further leads. And now seven years later, he still felt enraged at whomever had killed her, had tried to tear apart their family.

The front door swung open, hitting loudly against the wall behind it. The wind and rain took the opportunity to invade the house, chilling it by at least ten degrees. Yuzu clung to him tighter and even Karin scooted closer. Ichigo was at a loss of what to do, until his idiot father stepped in, grinning from ear to ear. He walked in, tracking mud and water on the carpet because he forgot to take off his shoes in the genkan. What an idiot, Ichigo thought as their father approached them without so much as shutting the door.

"Hello my beautiful children!" Isshin Kurosaki boomed, his hands on his hips. He was such a great hulking man that they couldn't see behind him, they couldn't see who walked in after and shut the door. "I see you're getting all cuddly while daddy is away. That hurts me." Even as he spoke it, his smile turned to a torrent of tears as he looked towards the tapestry sized poster he had of their late mother Misaki. "Do you see this Misaki? Our kids don't love me anymore!" He kneeled at the altar, still sobbing loudly. Ichigo shook his head, muttering profanities. He swore the man should've become an actor instead of a doctor. He would've been much better at that, and had a better reason for not being around as much as he should've been.

After their mother died, their father sometimes just shut himself in the clinic and didn't come out for days. And during those days, Ichigo would become the impromptu father for the girls. But he was a teenager, like all other teenagers and he felt the need to rebel. So he left to stay at Chad's place sometimes for as long as a month, thinking he would make his father worry about him a bit. But whenever he got back, it was like he hadn't left at all.

Like he was stuck in a time warp.

Isshin stood up and dusted himself off, draping his arm around the figure that had come in after him. The man had cream colored skin, bright brown eyes, brown hair, and a certain look about him that spoke of well…nerdy-ness. His light brown scholarly hair hung down around his face; his square rimmed glasses did little to cover the mild mannered glint in his eyes; and his smile was slight, so slight one wouldn't even think it was a smile at all, if they weren't looking closely enough. Instantly, Ichigo and the man locked gazes, and held. An shiver ran through him, and he let the briefest of smiles lit his face, but inside he worried.

"Kids, this is your uncle Sosuke Aizen." Their father said, his arm still draped around the man, but more for his own support. "He's you mother's only sibling." He explained, looking at Ichigo very seriously. Serious was a look that was rarely ever seen on his father's face, but when it was, he meant business. "He's moving into a house on the far side of town. I want you guys to be nice to him and show him around Karakura, alright?" Ichigo nodded, wondering why his father was still giving him that look. It wasn't like he was intentionally rude, it was just in his blood, as demonstrated by his father every morning when he decided to wake him by spontaneous attack.

Karin and Yuzu agreed, and they went to greet their uncle briefly, before they were sent off to bed by their father. He followed after them to tuck them in; Ichigo could imagine how well that would go with Karin.

"So, you must be Ichigo kun." Sosuke said, sitting down on the couch next to him. Ichigo nodded, trying to keep his eyes from roaming. But every so often, his eyes would trail down his uncles form, he was slim but muscled, and he had something about him that spoke of inner power. "You look so much like your mother." He said, and Ichigo's eyes snapped up to his, catching the moment of dark appraisal in his eyes. Ichigo shivered again, and nodded. He wasn't sure what to say to this man. He was told Sosuke was his mother's brother, but he couldn't help but feel that was a lie.

"I get that a lot." Ichigo replied, swallowing thickly. He wasn't feeling that awkwardness that one feels around visiting family, he was feeling fear. Raw biting fear cut through his insides looking at the man. Just as he realized that, he felt his body scooting farther down the couch, he felt his eyes widen and he felt himself fidgeting. Sosuke frowned ever so slightly, the darkness of the room mixed with the eerie glow of the television making his face that much more menacing. He couldn't hear anything upstairs, and the silence alone scared him more than anything else. Where was his dad? Why wasn't he back down yet? Could he have seriously left Ichigo alone with this man and just gone to bed? Why couldn't he hear anything goddammit?

"Why are you putting distance between us, _Ichigo._" Sosuke said, scooting closer and closer, the man's tongue flicked out to lick his lips as he drew so close Ichigo could feel his body heat. He was beginning to feel sick, he needed to get away, and fast. His hand gripped the armrest, as he tried to slow his quickly beating heart. "Between you and I, distance mean's nothing." He said, gripping Ichigo's chin lightly and tilting his head up. The dark haired man placed a hand over his heart, the cold touch making his skin crawl.

There was a stumble and then a loud curse, that broke them from whatever spell they'd been under. Isshin walked down the stairs rubbing his head yet smiling.

"The girls are asleep, and I think it's time for you to be in bed too Ichigo." Ichigo nodded and stood up, looking back at the man back on the couch. If he didn't know any better, he would think that nothing had happened, the man seemed calm as a cucumber.

"I need to talk to you later dad." Ichigo murmured as he passed him, and walked up the stairs. He felt something…wrong about him. And he'd proved it when he'd almost kissed him just then. There was something beneath the surface of him, something Ichigo didn't want to know, but he wanted it out of their house and their lives. Before he tried anything like that with his sisters.

On Saturday, after the rain stopped, Ichigo found himself in a dilemma. He hadn't found a time to tell his father his suspicions, because the man had been around almost every moment. He'd spent the night over their house, and luckily he hadn't tried anything funny, but who knew how long that would last?

And who knew what would happen if he let Yuzu take the man out to show him around town. Aizen himself seemed much too happy with the idea and Ichigo told her to go and watch Karin's soccer practice instead. His father had gone down to the clinic, so it was just the two of them. He tried to not be rude when he told the man he'd give him a tour some other time, but apparently it had been incredibly rude.

He took the man out and around the town, making sure to stay near all of the popular places so that he would never have a chance to get that close again. The day went by rather uneventfully and he was returned home without any problems. He wondered if the day before was some kind of hoax, and he held off telling his father until he had more concrete evidence. Oh, what a mistake that had been.

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><p>A week later, after several more outings with the man he was convinced of his innocence, and had actually begun to like him instead. First impressions, as they say, are almost always wrong. And it seemed that Ichigo's was a one eighty degree difference from how the man really was. He was polite and soft spoken, he rarely ever said anything in fact. The things he did say were meaningful, wise, and profound. He saw now some of the similarities between Sosuke and his mother, and he found himself spending more and more time with the man.<p>

At some point he stopped hanging out with his friends as much as before, and hung out solely with his uncle Sosuke. The man spoke fondly of his mother, though sometimes it was overly so and he found himself feeling a little bit of unease that was stifled down in an instant. He was completely and utterly captivated with the man. He was the picture of calm, he was like the father that Ichigo had never had. He asked him if he was eating well, sleeping well, and he would give him some great advice.

He remembered that day, they were sitting on a park bench in the sunshine, and everything was serene and calm. It was the ideal day to be out and about, the peace was almost scary, only broken by Ichigo's laughter and smiles at what Sosuke Aizen was saying. So wrapped up was he, that he didn't really think about what he said when he answered his questions. He was sleeping great, eating well enough, and well…he had found this really nice guy at school that he liked. His name was Renji Abarai, and he was a year older than him, a bit taller, well muscled and good looking, all the girls liked him.

"And…so do I." Ichigo admitted, blushing slightly. He looked at the ground between his feet. "He's really hot tempered but he's passionate, you know?" He said, still smiling when he turned to look at his uncle. To his surprise, the smile had melted off of his face, and his normally kind eyes seemed fiercer. But only for a split second.

Sosuke laughed softly, his face back into one of mild amusement. "You're more like your mother than I thought. So untamed and carefree." He looked up at the trees overhead. They rustled as the wind picked up, and Ichigo would've lifted his gaze as well, if his eyes were fixed on the older man's face. "I remember the day she told me why she ran away from home. She called me to tell me she'd run away to get married to a hot tempered but passionate man, just like the one your describing to me. She said his name was Isshin Kurosaki, and she had a little boy named Ichigo Kurosaki that shared his fathers mannerisms. She sounded so peaceful and proud to be telling me that. Like you were her little prize."

He paused and looked back at Ichigo with a touch of sadness. Ichigo wanted to reach out to him, and he did. The orange haired teen laid his hand on Sosuke's arm, he understood why he was so sad. After trying to put himself in his shoes, he found that he probably would've hated Isshin for stealing away his little sister. And the man that had stolen her, didn't even protect her. "Then she told me she had twins, little baby girls named Karin and Yuzu, she said they were cute as little buttons." Ichigo was caught up in the story, he hadn't expected such a deep conversation, but now he clung to each word. "Naturally, I was enraged, she hadn't told me anything, and for seven long years I'd thought she was dead. And then I find out she's perfectly happy, has three kids and she's married, living the dream life."

"But that part should've made you happy." Ichigo said, scowling. If it were him, he'd rush over to see her kids. He'd just be happy if she was happy, though… he would be kinda pissed if she just up and left without a single word.

Aizen nodded, and then abruptly changed the subject. "Would you like to spend the winter vacation at my house?" Ichigo nodded immediately, he hadn't seen his uncles house yet, and he was dying to know what it looked like. He was dropped off at home, and gathered up his clothes and told his father he was leaving to stay at Sosuke's for…well, about a month. And that was just fine with him, he told him to have fun and call every once in a while to check in. But he knew his father wouldn't really care if he didn't call. He hadn't cared before.

He rode to Sosuke's house in a taxi, since the man hadn't gotten a car yet.

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><p>Ichigo groaned, rolling over on the couch, going through these memories always reopened wounds that had never properly healed to begin with. Shirosaki and Zangetsu tried to block him off from it, but he pushed on. If there was something there they didn't want him to see, to remember, than that meant it was worth remembering.<p>

A cold towel was pressed to his forehead, icy cold droplets ran down the sides of his face and into his bright orange hair, but he dared not open his eyes. He might break the delicate stream of memories that were flooding his mind like a dam bursting.

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><p>Things sped up at that point. It happened in a blur. A short week went by, and Sosuke told him to call his father to check in. And he did so, told him that everything was great, they were having fun, and they were. It was so calm at Sosuke's house, he really never wanted to leave. He wasn't woken up by a punch to the face or a screaming kick, instead, he woke up gently breaking out of his own dreams by the sound of his uncles soft steady breathing. The man was usually just lying there, staring at him, which…he had to admit was very creepy, but he did see his little sister,Misaki, in Ichigo's face so he didn't question it.<p>

And then…things started getting weird.

Sosuke would start calling him Misaki, and scolding him, and he told him to keep quiet about what they'd done, and to not tell their father. He didn't know what was happening, but he wanted to protect his uncle from whatever was happening to him.

One day, while the older man slept, he looked in his small closet trying to find the painkillers that he'd said were in his coat pocket, but instead he found some old pictures of Misaki, from many different angles at many different times. Ichigo felt a scream building up in his throat when he found a picture of him, his mother, and his father Isshin walking down the street together. They were hand in hand, swinging him between them and laughing. He still remembered that day. It was before his sisters were born, and admittedly, it was a good time in their lives.

And his father's face was cut out, as were all of the pictures with Isshin in it.

In the same disturbing box, labeled 'Memories' was a lock of his mother's long orange hair, her hospital bracelet from the time she'd had Ichigo, and many other things. Like for instance a four inch long switch blade with black stuff crusted on it, her name carved into the handle in elegant scrawl.

Aizen snuck up behind him, flipping on the light in the small closet, his glasses were off and his pupils dilated. Ichigo remembered this moment with absolute clarity. It was the moment that he had realized that he had been a terrible mistake to have come there, and no one but his ignorant father knew where he was. He was knocked out, and he woke up in the man's basement, a place where he would spend the next three weeks, and the last moments of his sanity.

His uncle went out and got a wig, with long slightly curled orange hair. He placed it on Ichigo's head and took several pictures, presumably to add them to his growing collection. And for a while it was just the horrific ramblings of a madman, and even more pictures of the memories they supposedly shared together. That was…until the day that Aizen had come downstairs with an entirely different hairdo, and a partially clear mind.

"Ichigo, I've been scaring you, haven't I? I sincerely apologize." He said, and cradled Ichigo's face in his hands, staring almost lovingly into his eyes. By then, if Ichigo wasn't half crazy, he would be by the end of that day. "It's just that…well, you look just like your mother. And, if you couldn't tell, your mother and I had a bit of a relationship, way back when. It's really tragic that she chose to defy me. But I won't let you leave me, Ichigo. You and I, are one of a kind. A single mind sharing two bodies. I think your mother died so that we could be together."

Ichigo shivered, if his arms were free he would've hit him. He would've kicked and punched his way out, he needed to be away from this man. There was no denying it anymore. He had killed his mother, and probably planned to kill him. "You're sick." Ichigo spat, and received a blow to the side of his head so hard his ears rang for a long while after that.

His hands and feet were cut free of the chair, but they were still bound together. Apparently, Aizen had thought of everything beforehand. Maybe he'd planned things that was all along. He and his mother had just been pawns in some sick twisted game of chess that Sosuke was playing.

Ichigo's clothes were torn off, and he was left shivering on the cold tiled floor to 'think about what he'd done' as if he'd done anything to deserve that. The room they were in had once been a shower room. There were shower heads along the walls and drains placed conveniently around on the floor. In the weeks after, he'd get very well aquanted with that room and the warm spray that came out of them.

When Aizen came back, probably a few hours later, he couldn't tell because here time seemed to meld together. He pulled the wig off of him, and grabbed a fist full of his bright orange hair pulling back hard enough for tears to spring to his eyes, his neck was bared to his uncles searching lips. The kisses were pleasant at first, but they built up to harsh bites drawing blood from his neck, everything was lapped up by Sosuke. The man gripped his hips and flipped him over, and soon he was face down, ass bared to Sosuke who took his time taunting him and insulting him, even spanking and whipping him, welts rising on his delicate tanned skin. Heat spread over that area, and he almost confused it with sexual arousal on his part, but he was still flaccid, and he was scared out of his fuckin mind. Aizen pulled another picture of his mother out of his pocket, but this one was different. She wasn't smiling and happy, she was miserable, blood matted her hair and her face was cut and bleeding in several different places. Her eyes were shut tightly and her mouth was open in a silent scream.

That image would come back to haunt him every night of his life. It was probably the last picture ever taken of his mother before she'd died. Or rather, before Sosuke killed her. He remembered that, even after he'd escaped and started a new life. Even after putting those memories under lock and key, he remembered his mothers face, that look of pure pain and fear. That image, was what told him that he wasn't going to walk out of this okay. No one was coming to rescue him. He'd die here in this room just like his mother had, his bloood staining the floors.

"Isn't she beautiful Ichigo? Look at her, she'd finally given up on you and Isshin. This was when she started calling my name while I fucked her. Those were the good times, and i would've let her go too, if she hadn't killed herself first." And then, as if to add injury to insult, without any preparation at all, Aizen buried himself deep within Ichigo, and set a harsh pace. Pain ripped through him, and Ichigo bit his lip until it bled and the blood ran down his chin, he refused to cry out and give him exactly what he wanted. But his virgin hole tore open, and blood dripped down his legs across the floor and down the drain. He focused on that, on its rich red color instead of what was happening behind him.

Sosuke stroked his length, and he felt a bit of pleaseure spike through the pain, but that was even worse. How could he be feeling anything but fear and anger at this man, the man who'd driven his mother to insanity? Ichigo was sick, sick in the head and he just wanted to be spared from it. He surprised himself again, by cumming to that man's hand, and he felt something hot fill his tight passage, easing the pain that much more. But his uncle didn't stop there, he let go of Ichigo's length after he came but he didn't pull out, he kept on pounding into his cum slicked ass until Ichigo felt like he would pass out. But he didn't, he stayed awake, and lived through that humiliation at his uncles hand. His knees protested the movement until they finally broke open and bled, and he found himself hurting in about a million places.

After cumming for the third time, Sosuke tilted his head up and kissed him fiercely, his tongue slipping into Ichigo's mouth. Ichigo bit down as hard as he could and blood filled his mouth. If he was going to go down, he was going to go down with a fight goddammit. His uncle simply laughed, though the sound was strangled and he promptly backhanded Ichigo across the face and left him lying in his own blood.

"Your mine Ichigo, and the sooner you figure that out, the sooner you'll be fed, understood?" And with that, his uncle turned on the showers, the warm liquid providing a small comfort from all of the pain. "Kinda reminds you of rain doesn't it?" Sosuke said dreamily, turning it off and leaving, locking the door behind him.

This pattern continued for the next week, and finally he gave in to whatever Sosuke wanted in the hopes that he would set him free, or at least go easier on him.

As expected, he didn't go easier on him, in fact, with each and every time he cried out, Aizen would pound into him that much deeper, that much faster. And he'd lean forward, just far enough so that he could whisper in Ichigo's ear:

"You're a strong boy Ichigo, you mother lasted half this time before she was pleading for her life to be ended." Ichigo's eyes opened wide, in what was perhaps one of his last moments of clear thought. "Oh? What's this? Do you still have a little bit of fight left in you? Maybe i've been feeding you too frequently, is that it?"Sosuke chuckled. "If you had been this strong that day then maybe you could've saved her, _Ichigo_." Sosuke started up the pace again, but Ichigo didn't even register it in his mind anymore. Tears ran down his cheeks, and he choked down his sobs. He didn't want to give him the satisfaction of hearing him cry. He didn't want him to know the pain in his chest when he remembered that day, with more clarity than ever before.

And he could've saved her. He could've saved her from this pain, for only gods knew how long. His mother, here kneeling on the cold tiles crying out for her life, bleeding on the same floor as he was, until she couldn't take it anymore. He wondered how she had killed herself, maybe it could try it too, maybe he would join her wherever she was so he could apoligize for putting her through this, for not saving her.

"**You couldn't have saved her, King. You were only seven years old." **A strange distorted voice said. He didn't have the strength to look around. It had been three days since he'd last eaten anything**. **He allowed himself to fade…simply fade... and he went essentially to his happy place.

It was beautiful, wonderful, sideways skyscrapers and two strange men, and he was protected and sheltered from the pain of his body. But he wasn't protected from the emotions, and the memories, the torture. It corroded his mind like acid, and he felt it happening.

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><p>The memories of his escape where hazy at best, like seeing it through a strangers eyes. Ichigo had been obedient, nice even. He'd given up, until Sosuke told him he was going away for a couple of days, and he told him he loved him. Ichigo almost believed him, he thought, why else would he do what he was doing? Why else would he seem so desperate and needy? He even prepared him sometimes before he penetrated him, unless he was 'being a brat' then he was handled roughly, his knees scraping on the cold tile floor until they bled.<p>

But those voices….they told him he didn't care about him, they reminded him of all he had done, and the pain spiked in his chest. Why were they trying to hurt him? Why were they trying to confuse him? His uncle loved him, someone really truely loved him and they were trying to take him away from that? Who were _they_ anyways? They told him to escape while he was gone, and when he refused they pushed him into darkness and made him watch while he escaped, and ran…simply ran far away.

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><p><strong>It seems that i got a bit carried away there, sorry about that. You know me, i loves me some sad scenes. <strong>

**Anyways! To make this short and sweet, I'm going to the States, for a short one week vacation. In that time, no i will not be updating my stories, sorry ^_^''. But i haven't left any stories at cliffhangers so were all good. See ya! :)**


	4. The Falcon Flies Alone

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach. All rights and reserves as always, belong to Tite Kubo**

**Warnings: Blood, Mild Language, and Character Death?**

***Well well well, i never thought that that 'short break' would end up lasting...a month? or more, i'm really not sure. I'm soooooo terribly sorry about that pause. Upside, my thumb is healed, bad side...a flying blue cat stole my laptop and i lost my collection of oneshots i've been slaving over. Damn, never ever trust Pantera, lol. Anywaayyyyys. Enjoy (: **

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><p>Ichigo whimpered in his sleep, his eyes moving wildly behind his eyelids seeing some horrors that the rest of them weren't aware of. Lilynette sat in her father's lap watching Ichigo's friends awkwardly sit down at the edge of the living room. Questions filled her mind, like rushing rapids, and she wanted to give voice to them. What was Ichigo like when he was younger? How did they meet him? What made him like this? She bit them down though and beckoned Tia into the kitchen for the second time that day.<p>

After the busty blonde had gotten up and padded soundlessly into the kitchen, Lilynette pat her hardily on the back. "Good job finding his friends, Tia." She said, putting on a brave front. "How did you manage to find them?" What she really wanted to ask was, why call them and not his family like she'd asked? Tia eyed her silently for a few moments, like a student searching for the answer in her teacher's eyes. With a sigh, Harribel answered the burning question she knew was shining in her eyes.

"I have my way's Lily." She said, and then added almost as an afterthought, "His family members are on their way now; they lived considerably farther than his friends." Lilynette let go of a breath she didn't know she'd been holding and nodded, satisfied. After they arrived she could try and get to the bottom of this. She wouldn't…no, _couldn't _ let Ichigo die like this, from some torment that ate him from the inside. It was too painful to watch. The way everyone jumped up every time he opened his eyes, and dropped, exhausted when he fell asleep again. The way Grimmjow clung onto his hand like a lifeline. The raw pain in everyone else's eyes. It was like a soundless shapeless terror hung over the house. And call her conceited, but Lilynette felt like the only one who could really save the strawberry. Everyone else was too wrapped up living in their old memories with Ichigo when they should've been focused on making more, for the long run. And she planned on making that happen. She wanted Ichigo to laugh again, to smile again, to yell and kick and act like a brat again. She wanted him to show them all who he really was, under these layers of torture. Lilynette had never ever seen him truly smile, not once. Maybe that was why she could think so level headed.

Someone pounded on the door, like they were trying to break it down, and Harribel nodded to Lilynette like she'd asked a question and went to go answer it. She trailed behind, wariness making her hands clammy. Who could that be? The police? Surely they hadn't come here for any of them? When she walked back into the living room, Ulquiorra flashed her a look that was too quick for her to interpret and then focused his emerald gaze back on Ichigo. She still couldn't figure out why Ulquiorra pretended to hate Ichigo, if he did then he wouldn't have come to see him. And just like everyone else, his gaze never lingered from his tiny, shivering form. Her light pink gaze flicked over to Ichigo momentarily, and to her surprise she saw him awake, and sitting up, taking slow sips of water from a glass that Grimmjow offered. His body was covered with a light sheen of sweat and his eyes had lost that crazed look. Szayel caught her looking and flashed a bright smile.

"His fever broke," The doctor said, and for the first time hope shone in his eyes, and in Neliel's, who'd stopped crying but was still cradled in Nnoitora's arms. Lilynette rubbed her sweaty hands on her tee shirt and walked over to Ichigo, smiling affectionately at him. The moment was short lived because someone was yelling and causing a ruckus from the entryway, and a big man with short brown hair marched in, having pushed past Harribel to get in there. Nnoitora and her father, Coyote Starrk, stood up, ready to intervene, when the man, very abruptly burst into tears and charged across the small space to Ichigo who looked both relieved and exhausted at the same time. Lilynette wondered how such a tower of a man could reduce himself to crying so quickly, and she watched in amusement as he debated on whether to hug him or shake his hand, but both seemed rather inappropriate.

Instead he simply murmured, "My boy." And knelt by his head, pushing Grimmjow roughly out of the way. The bluenette growled at him, probably ready to get into a fist fight over that spot, but he came up short when the man began talking, "Ah, my son, you're too young to shoulder this kind of sadness, how am I going to be able to face Misaki now? Hey, did you hear that? I sound pretty cool, huh?" Ichigo smiled weakly, his chocolate brown eyes warmed and his whole body seemed to relax. Ichigo, Lilynette realized, smiled with his whole body. She'd never seen anything like it, and she'd decided that she wanted to see it a million times more. "Look at all this sweat, geez, you must've just got over a fever, you know what helped with that is," And he began a very strange list of concoctions, the likes of which Lilynette had never even dreamed of in all her wildest imaginings. Szayel pushed Grimmjow farther away, and asked the man's name. "It's Isshin, Kurosaki Isshin." He said glaring very seriously at Szayel. "Don't be alarmed but your hair…is pink. Like…cotton candy." Szayel reached up and touched his hair, affronted. Ichigo made a weird choking sound, while he looked at the ceiling, and with a jolt she realized that he was laughing.

"Dad! Don't be so rude!" Said a high voice from the entryway of the living room. A thin, willowy girl with long orange hair the same color as Ichigo's stood there, a warm blush across her cheeks. Behind her stood a taller girl with black hair and a baseball cap who was slouching until she caught sight of Ichigo. The orange haired girl rushed forward and pushed her father out of the way, ignoring Ichigo's injuries and hugging him tightly. "Ichi Nii, I can't believe it." She said, her voice thick with tears. The other girl walked tentatively forward, her eyes shining with unshed tears that she blinked away, sitting by her sister's side on the floor. A silent communication went through Ichigo and this dark haired girls eyes, their connection possibly even stronger than with his other sister.

Ichigo cleared his throat, "Sorry for making you worry, Yuzu… Karin." He said, his voice slow like he was trying to talk through syrup. His father was murmuring something about his children being together again and Lilynette couldn't help but wonder how he'd gotten so screwed up when he had a loving family like this. Ichigo's eyes widened a scary amount and he looked around the room like he was searching for something he didn't want to see, and he breathed a sigh of relief when he apparently didn't find it.

Lilynette glanced over at Grimmjow, who had inched his way back by Ichigo's side, and touched his leg very gently, as if he might shatter from the simple touch. Everyone sat in companionable silence and listened to Karin and Yuzu, Ichigo's younger sisters, update him on all that had happened to them while he was away, as if he'd just gone on vacation. They talked about menial things, Yuzu had gotten on honor roll, Karin was being offered a baseball scholarship that'd take her through college. They'd visited Misaki's grave every year since he'd been gone, and had told her to bring him back, and apparently, she had. After a while, after some apologies, Ichigo fell asleep again, but this time, everyone didn't sink into despair like before, they were anxious. They wanted to see Ichigo like he had been just then, so vibrant and alive, they couldn't help but feel hope that he would live. Finally, After Grimmjow tucked him back in, and planted a kiss on his forehead when he thought no one was looking, Lilynette called a meeting of sorts, just in time for one last person to step into the living room.

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><p>Grimmjow felt warm, from the inside out, and yet he felt some burning anger that hadn't been there before. Call him selfish, or jealous, or anything even remotely bad, but he was actually angry that Ichigo's family showed up and he was…overjoyed. It was instant, like a spark finally taking hold and turning into a blazing inferno. Why was it that when Ichigo had woken up and saw him, he'd only saw an escape? He'd been by his side when they hadn't; he'd answered his midnight calls and always <em>always <em>came to get him, so why was it that Ichigo didn't smile for him? Didn't…laugh for him? It felt so unfair, and even though he was happy, no ecstatic, that Ichigo was recovering, he still felt…cheated somehow.

Ichigo's breathing was deep and even, healthy sounding and he didn't seem to be having nightmares, he looked so peaceful an innocent. He looked his age finally, he looked like a teenaged boy. Grimmjow's eyes flicked around the room briefly before he very gently pressed his lips to Ichigo's forehead and then backed away before anyone could make accusations. The bluenette saw Lilynette stand up, her mouth opening, probably to deliver some speech, when someone glided in, silent as a ghost and serious as the plague. He looked like an A class geek, this guy. With long brown hair in a scholarly cut, reading glasses perched on the edge of his nose. He body was as taut was a wire, but that wasn't what made Grimmjow want to take Ichigo and run, it was the way his eyes immediately zeroed in on Ichigo, like they were the only two people in the room. And Ichigo, so peaceful a moment before shuddered and reached for Grimmjow, even in his sleep. Grimmjow placed his hand over Ichigo's and glared at the man, wondering his connection to Ichigo.

"It was difficult finding a parking space." Was the very first thing the man said, the creepy moment over and now he was acting like he didn't even notice Ichigo was there. When he spoke, he spoke to the room in general, and he commanded attention. But he still edged ever closer to Ichigo. The only other person that seemed to notice was Ulquiorra and he walked over to the sofa and sat on the edge his cool gaze meeting the man's eyes in some confrontation that only the three of them seemed to be aware of. Other people were talking but they were like background noise, all that seemed to matter was what was going on now. After a seemingly long time, the man's gaze drifted over and locked onto Grimmjow's electric blue gaze. He bared his teeth, not one for fighting inwardly and was about to stand until the other sounds in the room came back to him, loud and clear. First he heard his name, though it wasn't directed towards him, and he felt multiple gazes on him then, and he forced down his panic and nausea and pried his eyes away from the man that seemed like an immediate danger.

"Well technically Grimmjow found him, and the rest of us met him later, we've been seeing him on and off for the past three years and…" The voice droned on and on, with a detached feeling he tried to find the source. Ah, Lilynette's mouth was moving, but somehow the voice didn't match the movements. It was like watching an American show in Japanese. He had to lean back against the couch exhaustion overwhelming him. Suddenly, he realized that he hadn't slept since three nights ago. Last night was terrible, and he hadn't gotten a wink of sleep. The night before last had been meant for him and his wife, who stood in the corner looking angry at the world. He didn't blame her, because he'd already confirmed her worst fears. He was deeply madly and truly in love with Ichigo, and there was absolutely nothing that either he or Tia could do about it. It really wasn't fair to any of them, that Grimmjow's true first love would be this kid, that this kid had to go through all this shit, and Tia, poor beautiful Tia had a husband that was in love with some boy she hated. Gods, they were all screwed up, Ichigo more than anyone else, he reckoned, but they were all screwed up anyways. He tuned out and rested his head on the edge of the couch, refusing to leave Ichigo when threats seemed to be closing in on all sides.

Sleep brought with it disturbing heart stopping dreams; Ichigo walking far ahead of him, getting father and farther no matter how hard he ran, no matter how loud he called his name; he felt something chasing after him, calling him and laughing mirthlessly when it caught him; some spiky redheaded teen being slowly swallowed up by black bubbling tar, red bloody gouges where his eyes had been telling him to protect Ichigo don't let it happen again…and abruptly the teen grabbed him and grabbed him into the tar after him.

And Grimmjow woke up panting, the lights off in the house, his face buried in the sofa cushion, his blue spiky hair pressed flat to his head on one side and someone was stroking his hair softly. The hand that was on his head was shaking slightly and he reached for it, and kissed it gently, over and over again, while Ichigo sang him a sad little song, one that Grimmjow had heard somewhere in a distant memory.

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><p><em><strong>Ichigo's Song (A.k.a Falcon Flies Alone)<strong>_

_Soaring with the wind_

_A falcon flies alone_

_Silent as the sky_

_I hear his lonely cry_

_Never can he rest_

_I walk with you_

_Along an empty winding road_

_We're far from the ones we love_

_Never can return_

_Never can we see again_

_The countries of our birth_

_When will I ever find a place to call my home?_

_Sadness circling like a falcon in the sky_

_When will I ever find a way to speak my heart?_

_To someone who knows what it is to be alone?_

_Far far above the clouds_

_Against the setting sun_

_A falcon flies alone_

_Silent as the sky_

_I hear his lonely cry_

_Never can he rest_

_I long to spread my wings_

_And fly into the night_

_Open this lonely heart to one who understands_

_When will I ever find a way to speak my heart?_

_When will I ever find a place to call my own?_

_Sadness and loneliness a falcon in the sky_

_When will I ever find a way to speak my heart?_

_To someone who knows what it is to be alone_

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><p>Ichigo felt Grimmjow relax against him when he finished singing, though the feather light kisses on his hand didn't seize, they only intensified, and in spite of himself he felt his cheeks warm at the simple gesture. He remembered how he'd been calling his name desperately in his sleep, and promising over and over to protect him. But he also remembered Harribel and he didn't want to do anything to put their marriage in jeopardy.<p>

Even as he thought that, warm lips were pressed against his own, light and gentle. It was perhaps the sweetest kiss he'd ever experienced before. And before he could ask what had prompted it, Grimmjow stood up, only to bend down and kiss him on the forehead before turning and walking into the kitchen, where the others were having some kind of meeting about him. He touched his lips with a tentative smile and let himself feel the warmth for a little while, before a distorted voice said, **You're in danger Ichigo, get out of here, now. **And he realized that he was totally and completely alone. He threw the blankets off himself and stumbled out the front door, not even bothering to take shoes or a rain jacket. When he opened the door, a blast of icy wind met him yet he still stumbled on not even stopping when stinging rain droplets drenched his hair and thin layers of clothing, blocking his vision. When he was up to his ankles in water, he stopped looking up the sky that was dark orange.

He felt clear, finally, he couldn't hear Shirosaki or Zangetsu, he didn't feel consumed by panic for once. While he had this moment of clarity he tried to reason out the important things, try to examine the painful stuff like about his uncle Aizen or maybe try and find a solution to his problem with 'the voices in his head'. But the only thing that stood out to him, painfully clear was shining cerulean eyes a laugh he couldn't deny and a smile that could melt his carefully guarded heart. He hadn't even noticed it before, the way that he clung to him as tightly as Grimmjow seemed to hold him, the way his eyes immediately looked to him for comfort, when he felt insecure, that was the person who comforted him. He could've easily called someone else those times he needed help, but Grimmjow's number was the only one he called, the only one he even wanted to talk to in those dark times.

He barely remembered it, but Grimmjow had taken care of him, had tried to rehabilitate him. And the way he'd showed his thanks? By running away. Running away from this perfect clarity he now felt. That he wanted to keep feeling. Gods, how had he missed this before? There was so many things holding him back, so many things in their way, but now he _wanted _ to get better, now he wanted to show Harribel what he could be show them all that he was-

"Ichigo, somehow I knew I'd find you out here." Said a chilling voice from behind him. He hated the way his name had been caressed, it was like he was back in that room, awaiting his fate. The last vestiges of his former clarity withered away and he turned and faced his Uncle Aizen. The man had that infuriating grin on his face, as if he should be allowed to smile. The fact that he could be happy meant that whatever gods there was were some sick bastards. "I'm glad you decided to grow your hair out, you look so much like your mother that way." The way the said it mad chills run up and down his spine, it would seem like a normal conversation to innocent onlookers but the both of them _knew_. And he hated sharing a secret with Aizen. The man took another step forward and another, the tips of his shoes touching the edge of the puddle Ichigo stood in. He leaned forward, so that his lips were able to press against Ichigo's ear and in a seductive purr he said, "I hear that you turned to prostitution after you left me. Must be hard not having anyone who could satisfy you the same way I did."

Ichigo pushed him, but the man didn't move, he was the one who stumbled back, into the street. And he saw his escape, a car turned down the road, its windshield wipers working furiously but they couldn't see him. And he couldn't see inside either. He took another step back, grinning savagely at Aizen as the man realized what was about to happen. "You could never satisfy me, _Sosuke." _He said, loving the look of desperation that crossed the older man's face. What he had just said was a lie. Seeing him like this, broken the way he was supposed to look, that satisfied him more than anything ever had before. The horn of the car blared alarmingly close, and he felt his heart speed up, adreline running through his veins, and his breathing was coming quick and short.

"Ichigo, don't," Aizen called from a seemingly faraway place. But he wasn't listening anymore, he turned and faced the car.

When it was inches from hitting him, he whispered, "I love you Grimmjow." The impact of the car sent him flying over the hood, his vision turning black before he'd hit the ground, or even registered the pain.

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><p><strong>Okay, now, before you track me down and kill me, let me explain. Ichigo's not dead. I reallly wish I could kill him off and make this story as sad as it possibly could be, but he's not. It can only go...uphill from here believe it or not. Haha, you'll see what i mean next week. And i mean that. I'm not saying next week and i really mean next year like that crazy long pause i just took. <strong>

**Oh yeah, fun fact about Daichi Sama? My Kaa san used to sing Falcon Flies Alone to me like all the time. I sing it to my sister at night but she threatens to throw herself out of a window every time i sing. **


	5. Ever Ever After ?

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach, all right and reserves belong to Tite Kubo... **

**Blah Blah Blah just read the damn chapter. Thanks :3 **

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><p>Beep...Beep...Beep so constant and steady was the noise, that anyone listening to it would think it would never stop. Ichigo's hand fluttered in a weak attempt to shut it off, hit snooze or whatever would let him continue sleeping. But there was no such luck.<p>

He cracked his eyes open, hissing at the sudden brightness and let his eyes get adjusted to the cold inhuman florescent lighting. It wasn't just the brightness of the light though, he saw as he got a good look at the place. It was all white and silver, so pristine and perfect that for a minute he thought he was in heaven. But he knew that couldn't be right, after all the things he'd done in his life he knew he was going the opposite direction. He tried to sit up, straighter, but a sudden sharp pain in his side that felt as if someone had taken a dull knife and stabbed him made him give up the effort. His vision went blurry for a moment and the annoying beeping sound picked up the pace. Eventually, frustrated with his own condition, and his complete inability to comprehend what sort of situation he was in, he laid down, and went back to sleep.

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><p>Sosuke Aizen sat, his right arm handcuffed to the arm of the chair letting the nurse fuss over him. He also watched the police interrogate the blue haired man who seemed angry, worried, and sick all at the same time. He wondered why they hadn't restrained him, considering everything that had happened.<p>

It was like time had slowed down to a snails pace when Ichigo had stepped in front of the car. Like a bad dream that he wasn't able to wake up from. It was like loosing Masaki for a second time. Only this time, the person at fault wasn't Isshin, for filling her head with delusions of grandier, it was that blue haired devil over there, who at the moment, seemed to be nodding in Sosuke's direction. He couldn't seem to fathom why the police would take his side. When obviously the real victims here was Ichigo and Sosuke. He'd tried to grab Ichigo before he got hit by the car, but he'd only managed to brush his fingertips across the silken skin of his wrist before it happened. The car's horn blared, it seemed for a century, and Ichigo's fragile body hit the hood hard and rolled over the top of the vehicle before landing in a sickly still heap on the opposite side. And then, time picked up again. The driver got out and ran over to Ichigo's still body, calling out for Sosuke to call an ambulance. Then, a rough hand turned him around by his shoulder, and the blue haired man had shouted at him, calling him all sorts of unpleasant names, as if Sosuke had pushed him in front of the car. Which appearantly, from his point of view, it had been that way.

"What the fuck is your problem?" The blue haired man had shouted, invading Sosuke's comfort zone. "Why would you do that, he's your nephew for Christ's sake!" And that when he felt it, a madness creeping over his skin like a frost.

In a detached voice he said, "You honestly think I'd kill my lover? Do you think I'm that sick?"

And then the blue haired man recoiled like he'd been slapped and asked, "Your lover?" Sosuke had known it at that moment, that the blue haired man wanted Ichigo, the same way that little red haired brat had, and Sosuke promised the blue haired man that he'd punish him the same way he had anyone, man or woman who'd looked at his Ichigo the wrong way.

At that point, Grimmjow had punched him once in the face and twice in the gut before stalking over to where Ichigo lay and called an ambulance. Sosuke gingerly touched his nose, wincing at the pain and diagnosed it as broken. He absentmindedly took out the tiny little bundle of bright orange hair he always kept on him and smelled it, praying to whatever was watching this scene that Ichigo would be okay, that he wouldn't be taken from him like Masaki had been. He wouldn't be able to stand another loss like that. That buffoon Isshin and his kids came running out shouting and crying, asking him what happened, but he couldn't reply. He just hugged the little girl, Yuzu, to his chest and smelled that bright orange hair of her's trying to soothe her frantic tears, remembering the days when he had held Masaki in his arms while she had cried when boyfriend after boyfriend had broken her heart. He titled Yuzu's head back and kissed her softly on her full pink lips, and called her Masaki, over and over again until he made himself believe it. He made himself believe the fact that Masaki was living again, small and vulnerable in his arms; just like he'd done with Ichigo. Because at that point, he knew Ichigo was gone. His life snuffed out before his time, just like his Masaki. He looked in Yuzu's huge scared brown eyes and wondered if she'd die young too. He wondered if it was punishment for him to love people who died to soon. Wondered if he'd been cursed to never receive their love in return.

The police officer came over to him, holding his hand out for the bundle bright orange hair he still had in his grip. Sosuke shook his head panicking for a moment. "You're either going to give that to me or I'll have to forcibly remove it, which way is better for you, Sosuke Aizen?"

Sosuke held it out to him, with what he knew was a maniac grin and said, "I have more at home anyways." He positively loved the shocked reaction the police officer showed and wondered if he'd ever had such a strong love before. He'd know this was all a misunderstanding. Instead the police officer slipped it into a plastic bag and handed it off to his partner, who then penciled in something on the label. They talked for a moment and then unlocked the handcuffs.

He grinned smugly at the blue haired man who looked on with disbelief. One of the police officer's head him his rights and then refastened the handcuffs behind his back. One of the police officer's stayed behind, while the other walked Sosuke out of the empty lobby, the last thing that he'd seen as a free man was the dangerous glint in those electric blue eyes.

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><p>Grimmjow sagged with relief when they finally took him out, hoping that at least for the moment, everything was going to be alright. The police officer that stayed behind told him that he was going to go fill out some paperwork with the hospital staff, and then wait with him until Ichigo woke up. Grimmjow stared at the empty lobby for a few moments more, running through the things that were going to happen; Ichigo's family would come back in a couple of hours, and then he was expected to go home to his wife, Tier. He knew, at this point that their marriage wasn't going to work,that his feeling for Ichigo would never go away, even after their lives were spent. Which he hoped, was a very long time from then.<p>

He went and grabbed a cup of lukewarm coffee from the cafeteria and went back to Ichigo's room, sitting in the chair by his bed. His condition was stable and it seemed that he was resting peacefully. His bright orange lashes brushed his cheeks and his eyes danced behind his paper thin eyelids. He wanted to see what he was dreaming about, wishing he could follow him in.

The heart moniter suddenly picked up pace alarmingly, and his chocolate brown eyes opened wide. Grimmjow's stomach dropped, he'd forgotten how beautiful Ichigo was, when he wasn't fading in and out of consciousness, and truthfully, he wondered if he'd ever really seen him any other way. His eyes darted around the room, before he finally noticed Grimmjow was there. His eyebrows furrowed and his full pink lips turned into a scowl.

"Grimm..." He rasped, trying to sit up, and then wincing with the effort. Grimmjow poured some water from the pitcher that stood on the bedside table and held it out to him, half scared that if he touched him his hand would go through like smoke. Ichigo's thin fingers wrapped around glass and he slowly held it up to his lips, taking tentative sips until half the glass was gone. "Grimmjow," He said finally, his voice back to normal, and he had that stubborn set to his jaw again. At that moment, he finally let himself believe that Ichigo was going to be all right."What happened while I was out? What time is it? How many day's has it been?"

Grimmjow laughed and help up his hands, smirking at the sudden barrage of questions. "It's the same day, four hours after we got to the hospital. We rushed you to the here, everyone cried over you, well...except Tier and Ulquoiorra. Uhm...everyone went home to sleep, but they'll be back as soon as visiting hours are open. Your little sister Yuzu was attacked by your Uncle Aizen-" Ichigo sputtered and coughed, spilling the rest of the water on himself and the floor.

"Sosuke hurt Yuzu? Where is she? Did he take her? Please tell me he didn't take her." Ichigo said, his huge brown eyes swimmming with tears. He was so fucused on Grimmjow that he didn't hear the police officer come in. "Yuzu can't go through what I went through with Sosuke."

The police officer, not missing a beat said, "And what exactly did Sosuke Aizen do to you?" He asked, his eyes steely and remote. He held a tape recorder in one hand, that he pressed down on when Ichigo began, ever reluctantly, and slowly, telling the horror story that was his life before Grimmjow had met him. And as sick as he felt while the story was being told, he also felt pride that Ichigo had survived this. He was surprised that he hadn't attempted to commit suicide earlier, that he'd chosen to live and fight. He saw the logic in all of the moves he'd made and decided that Sosuke Aizen was very lucky that he was protected by those steel bars; because if he was sitting in this room right now Grimmjow would strangle him to death. Yet, even that wasn't a good enough punishment for the man.

The steely eyed police officer seemed to be turning an interesting shade of green while listening to the story. And finally, when it was over, the police officer seemed to have a sudden vigor. "We already had reason enough for a search warrant, but that place he kept you in is reason enough to get him put away for a very long time. And if what your saying about your mother is true then he could get a life sentence, which is still too good for that sick bastard." The police officer nodded to the both of them and walked out of the room, already pulling out a phone to relay the information to his partner.

Grimmjow and Ichigo sat in silence for a few minutes, Grimmjow unable to meet his eyes. He heard a whimper, and looked up to see Ichigo had the sheets pulled over his face, crying. "I never wanted you to know about my past, Grimmjow." He said, his voice thick with tears. "I never wanted you to know how disgusting I am."

Grimmjow stood and pulled back the sheet, glaring down at Ichigo. "You are the most beautiful, courageous, strong person I have ever met in my life. How dare you say your disgusting. The only person that's disgusting is that motherfucker Sosuke. He needs to be locked up in a straightjacket in a padded room." Ichigo held his hands over his eyes, Grimmjow gently removed them and held his wrists down above his head. "I'm so proud of you, I'm so...lucky to have met you, don't you know that? Haven't you been able to tell how deeply in love with you I am?" Both of them gasped softly with that admission, both equally shocked that those words had just come out of his mouth. Grimmjow wasn't shocked that the words had come out, but that he meant them whole heartedly, and despite the fact that Ichigo should never trust anyone ever again, he wanted Ichigo to say that he loved him back. He wanted it so badly he felt his throat thicken with tears that he desperately pushed back.

Ichigo's lips thinned for a moment, and then he pulled his wrists out of Grimmjow's grip and placed his hands on either side of the bluenette's face. Then, ever so slowly, he guided him down into the gentlest, sweetest, most tender kiss that the two had ever experienced.

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><p><strong>**'Motherfucker Sosuke' I didn't find the irony in that statement until after I read it over for the second time. <strong>

*****Some of you decided to keep sending me messages, 'Daichi Sama your a heartbreaker' 'Daichi Sama you ish such a liar' 'You SAID you would update HE WILL BE ****LOVED' Alright, alright. I did. This is the end. Before the epilogue, which is when you get the juicy scene's. I just recently moved to the U.S of A, Florida more**

**specifically, and i've had exams and whatnot so...yeah. I guess i can start writing like a madman again, since life is pretty much...boring now. Stay tuned for next **

**week when i attempt to update He will be loved, Naughty Strawberry Maid, and finally start that DeathNote short I've been bragging about (and maybe, if i want to **

**just die afterwards, I'll add another chapter to Owe you my life. **

**Oh yeah, and uh, sorry this chapter was so freaken short but...its hard to pick back up a story that you abandoned a long ass time ago, (as you can imagine).**


	6. One Year Greater

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach. All rights and reserved belong to Tite Kubo. **

**Warnings: A short and sappy ending to a really painful story, Ichi/Grimm action, and thoughtful imagery about the rain.**

**There's no long and detailed excuse about why I haven't written in so long. I just havent, but here's the epilogue to He Will Be Loved. It's been a strange, painful journey, but finally things can come to hopefully, a satisfying ending. If it's not well...I know you guys won't be afraid to tell me. **

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><p><strong>One Year Later<strong>

Grimmjow turned on his blinkers, and changed lanes, hearing a soft clunk thunk as he did so. It was raining cats and dogs and fish that afternoon, the sky was just beginning to turn pink and orange. He'd just clocked off for the day, after a very long day in court. He'd called home earlier, his heart doing a few sick jumping jacks when Ichigo didn't answer, but less than two minutes later the orange haired man called back, his voice gruff and husky from sleep. Lately Grimmjow had been getting off late into the night, but finally he could go home and just relax. He remembered that night so long ago, on a day like this one, when he'd gotten that call from Ichigo and the pure hell that had ensued. Both of them had changed, and grown a lot since then, in the process of patching each other up, they'd grown closer together. Though…they hadn't done more than a little heavy petting. He could tell that Ichigo was ready to move on, and finally consummate their love. He turned down the street, just as lightning flashed, and for a brief moment, it was like he was transported back in time. He had been gilding along in his sleek black car, with a shivering orange haired man in his passenger seat, wearing nothing but a threadbare white sheet and some socks.

His fingers twitched towards his cell phone, with a strange urge to call Coyote Starrk to keep Ichigo safe in his home, and away from his wife. All the while lying to himself, trying to convince himself that he wasn't in love with Ichigo, that what he had done was something expected of friends. The divorce with his wife had finalized six months before, she'd taken with her a lot of the furniture and some cash, but she claimed she left her bittersweet memories at Grimmjow's home. He shook his head, and turned into his housing complex. They'd moved Ichigo out of Starrks home and into Grimmjow's a long time ago. And every night that he came home and saw Ichigo there, happy and healthy, was a weight off of his shoulders. Even this long after the incident, he still thought he'd come home and find Ichigo gone, having taken some money and leaving a simple little note. He shook his head as he pulled into his little compact parking space. Ichigo had been in rehab for four months and in therapy for almost nine. Even now Ichigo woke up in a cold sweat with crazy stories about standing on the side of a skyscraper chatting with two strange yet comforting figments of his imagination. Grimmjow just lay there and listened to the stories, almost wishing he could follow him into his dream world and meet this Shirosaki and Zangetsu. Ichigo's therapist said that they would probably go away with time and that in fact…those delusions weren't destructive in any way shape or form, nothing but a coping mechanism.

Grimmjow locked his car and walked up the short path to his front door, he slipped his key into the lock, and unlocked the door, a grin already on his face, expecting Ichigo to throw himself into his arms like he usually did, but Ichigo wasn't in the foyer. He heard the faint sound of music and followed it to the downstairs den. Ichigo sat cross legged on the plush white carpet, his back against the couch, cutting pictures to go in a little scrapbook he'd been keeping, part of his therapy appearantly. The blue haired man grimaced when he identified his lover's music choice. Am I A Psycho, by Tech N9ne. He shook his head and grabbed the remote from off of the arm of the couch and turned it off. Ichigo's head swiveled around and he gave Grimmjow a flash of his angelic smile.

"Hey Grimm," He said simply, quickly moving from his little nest of paper scraps. Ichigo's hands slid up Grimmjow's chest and encircled his neck, playing with his electric blue hair. For a moment there was complete silence. Grimmjow searching the depths of those chocolate brown eyes, for some sort of vestige of a relapse, but he saw none. Sighing, he dropped the remote on the couch and wrapped his arms around Ichigo, gripping his lithe hips. He chuckled and kissed Ichigo's forehead. Ichigo pouted and lifted up on his tip toes to press his lips against Grimmjow's. Ichigo's lips were warm and molded to Grimmjow's perfectly, the bluenette hummed and slid his tongue across Ichigo's bottom lip, tasting honey and cinnamon. Ichigo's lips parted, in a silent invitation, and he slipped his tongue into his lovers mouth. Their bodies were pressed flush against each other, and Grimmjow began to explore Ichigo's mouth slowly and with wicked leisure. But he could feel that Ichigo wasn't in the mood for short and sweet. He was ready for something a little more intense. Grimmjow's hands slipped from his hips to the sinful curve of his ass. He kneaded the soft mounds of flesh, pulling him closer to get more friction while his mouth barraged the side of Ichigo's neck.

Ichigo giggled softly his hands playing in Grimmjow's hair and it was all he could do not to tackle him to the floor. Instead the two went upstairs to the bedroom, their hands all over each other, stoking the others fire into a furnace. When they reached their bedroom, Ichigo gently pushed Grimmjow's shoulders back on the pillows, the bluenette did not resist his treatment, instead he felt eager for whatever the orange haired man had in mind. And both of them could feel his eagerness in his nether regions. Ichigo gave him a secret smile, and Grimmjow knew they weren't going to pretend like Ichigo was some sweet little virgin. They both knew his experiences and had to accept them. The orange haired man drew his shirt over his head fluidly, kneeling on Grimmjow's lap, hovering over the tent in Grimmjow's slacks. He unbuttoned his cargo shorts allowing Grimmjow an intimate look at his lovers arousal. Heat flooded down to Grimmjow's groin at the sign of Ichigo's apparent want. He couldn't let Ichigo take the reins here, he wouldn't. But slowly, sane thoughts were slipping from his mind, as Ichigo threw back his head, and ran his hands over his chest, taking his time to tease his nipples into blushing hardness. Grimmjow's mouth was practically watering. He wanted so badly to capture those twin sensitive little buds, to nibble and suck them until Ichigo was nothing but a shivering mess. His hands grasped Ichigo's hips, seating him on top of his growing arousal.

"Oh, Ichigo…" The orange haired man's name changed into a groan of pleasure when Ichigo slipped his hands into Grimmjow's shirt, opened it, and rubbed the tips of his nipples against his muscular chest. Ichigo nipped lightly at Grimmjow's bottom lip and the firm line of his jaw. Then he nibbled a hot trail down his body, deftly undoing the clasp that held his pants closed. Grimmjow could hear his own gasp as if from a distance when Ichigo took him in his hands and caressed his pulsing shaft. And then his mouth was on him. First he used his lips and tongue up and down the thick, hard girth of him, sometimes he pulled off to gently tease his foreskin, a move who's origin Grimmjow didn't even want to contemplate. Grimmjow's body trembled and strained beneath his lovers administrations, and he moaned Ichigo's name over and over. Ichigo swallowed around him, sucking and teasing until Grimmjow growled and in one swift movement, flipped him onto his back.

Grimmjow ran his hands up and down his lovers body, pulling his cargo shorts off of him, and then gently pulling his erection out from underneath his boxers. God, was he beautiful. He didn't touch the obvious place, instead he began to caress his hips slowly, and traced his lower belly, and massaged his thighs. Only when his lover made a desperate sound, between a moan and a whine, and parted his legs did he place a few fingers at his puckered entrance, but his hand remained still.

Both of them were breathing hard, practically gasping for air. Ichigo whimpered and tugged at Grimmjow's wrist.

"Please…right there." Ichigo shuddered and tried to shift Grimmjow's fingers. The bluenette could tell he'd prepared himself earlier, and had been waiting for this.

"Are you sure?" Grimmjow asked in a husky voice. "I'm not going to ask you again, and I'm not going to allow you to run away." Ichigo growled and pulled him down into a kiss. The bluenette was more than satisfied with his answer, and he let the very last strands of his restraint fall away. His fingers slid home, and he was completely lost in the sensations. He didn't have to prepare him much, it seemed that Ichigo had prepared himself enough earlier, his hole was already lubed and stretched enough fro two of his fingers to thrust in and begin to scissor, and when he hooked his fingers to the right, Ichigo moaned loudly and lifted his hips off of the bed, allowing for better access. He could imagine his cock traveling the same path and it wasn't long before he was withdrawing his fingers. Instead, his fingers wrapped around Ichigo's hot pulsing member and he stroked him, capturing his nipple between his lips. His hot, open mouth moved down Ichigo's body, and sucked off the bead of precum resting the tip of his cock.

Ichigo couldn't lie still. He gasped in pleasure, the sounds coming from his sinful little mouth getting louder and louder, he was a prisoner caught between his hot slick mouth and the bed. Finally, Grimmjow positioned himself at the entrance and looked Ichigo in the eyes, both of them breathing raggedly.

"I love you Ichigo." Grimmjow said, slipping inside before Ichigo could answer. The orange haired man arched up and dug his blunt nails into his back. Even though Ichigo was prepared, he was still tight. The walls of Ichigo's ass held him fast, and he waited a moment for Ichigo to get used to it. He only continued when the orange haired man wiggled his hips. Grimmjow shook, his whole body on fire as he pumped into him, driving him into the bed. At first he moved slowly, surge and withdraw, with the gentle tempo of the ocean, but he could tell it wasn't enough, not nearly enough.

Ichigo gasped, "More!" And encircled his waist with his long legs in desperation. Instantly, his pace became irregular and fast, and the room filled with the sounds of their pleasure and the sinful sound of slapping flesh. When he felt himself getting close to climaxing, he growled in Ichigo's ear, and began stroking him, but it seemed, Ichigo hadn't had enough yet. Ichigo's legs withdrew and he pulled his ass back, Grimmjow's cock stood proudly, as Ichigo sat him back on the bed. Ichigo locked his honey brown eyes with his blue hot gaze. The orange haired man straddled him. Holding himself on his knees above Grimmjow, he rested his tip against his hot wet heat. Then he impaled himself on him, slowly, deliciously, taking his length within him. With a deliberately teasing motion, he lifted himself back up onto his knees, so that his tip was throbbing against his opening. Then he slid down slowly again. Ichigo sheathed Grimmjow within him, until the exquisite tension appearantly built up beyond his bearing. Only then did he guide Grimmjow's hands to his hips and let the bluenette increase their tempo. They moved together urgently, the white light of passion filling their bodies with heat that built and built until the sweetness of it was unbearable. Ichigo pulsed around him, and he knew he was close to climax. Grimmjow was dangerously close himself. He pulled Ichigo down into a hot, soul sucking kiss, right before Ichigo came explosively, milking a sympathetic response from Grimmjow, who came deep inside of his lover.

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><p>Hours later, out of the vestiges of sleep, Ichigo groaned when he awoke. Grimmjow was half draped over him, holding him close, against his broad muscular chest. It was dark outside the window, and the pitter patter of the rain didn't bother him nearly as much as it used to. On a rainy night about a year ago he'd been rescued by Grimmjow, and on another, he was finally freed from his deranged uncle Aizen's grasp. He could understand why Shirosaki liked it now. Rain might be dreary, but with it it usually brought a welcome change. His thoughts shifted, and he smiled when Grimmjow grumbled in his sleep. Ichigo understood how much he truly owed the blue haired man. Smiling gently at the chain tattoos up his arms, he knew the past would always be with him, but he was going to grow into somebody worthy of Grimmjow. Ichigo's body was sore in places that made him understand just how thoroughly he was loved.<p>

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><p><strong>Alright, we'll please look out for my new fic called Strawberry Grenade. Ichigo is of course the main character. But he might not just be paired with Grimmjow this time. He's basically in Japan's version of the secret service, and he is supposed to infiltrate the Yakuza using any methods possible to win over their leader. Not gonna say who that is yet. <strong>

**I would like to thank everyone who's stuck with me this long, and will continue to look for 'Strawberry Grenade' and read current stories I have out. This fic started out as a sort of experiment into the darker side of Fanfiction, instead of the crap I usually write. So for long, hardcore fans of He Will Be Loved, and you newbies, I just want to say, **

**Arigatou Gozaimasu. **


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